


COATS from GOATS

by scribbled_handwrite



Category: Ripper Street
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe, F/M, stealing a goat is super romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 06:08:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9222410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribbled_handwrite/pseuds/scribbled_handwrite
Summary: Super romantic Captain Jackson steals a goat and is wrapped at the end.





	

COATS from GOATS - Susan hated this shop and shivered every time when she must pass it. Captain Jackson who accompanied his wife on this lovely February morning on her settling ways sensed it and said provoking “No new coat?”

Susan scowled at him and walked faster.

  
“Every creature on earth has its own life purpose” Jackson realised philosophically. “Men rule the world and goats become coats.”

  
“Should that be funny?” Susan asked angrily. “How would you feel if you’re only raised to be cruelly skinned?”

  
Jackson briefly considered before he answered with a large grin. “The prospect of being the wrapping of a beautiful bare woman’s body like yours would make me happy.”

  
Susan rolled her eyes and groaned annoyed.

  
“Come on! Most of you women love wearing fur. It’s warm and cuddly, especially on naked skin.” Jackson stopped walking. “Apropos wrapping a naked body … What about tonight?”

  
Susan got closer to the Captain. She laid her hand on his chest, played with his scarf, looked at him seductively. “It’s Valentine’s Day, right?” she said with a promising smile.

  
Jackson nodded “Yeah!” He pursed his lips prepared to be kissed.

  
But Susan lashed his scarf instead. “The house will be full and I’ll be very busy.” She turned around and walked away. After a few steps she looked back to the baffled Captain.

  
“Apropos wrapping a naked body … Women who can effort a decent fur – what’s sable, silver fox or ermine and NOT GOAT – are those from whom our gentlemen flee; their fat, ugly or neurotic wives.

  
If you want to be a wrapping, well, I think you’ll find a lot of jewellery sedated, abandoned, rich housewives for this purpose this evening.”

  
The picture of a typical matron looking like a sad sausage in a salmon-coloured dress made Jackson shudder. It seemed that there will be no girl today. The beauties will be occupied and the ugly ones are no real alternative to good old booze.

  
***

  
Jackson, the last guest, was rudely kicked out of pub when it closed. Fortunately, he had snatched a bottle of whiskey, so that the way home to Tenter Street would be a pleasant walk in the darkness. Everything around him was moving somehow, fluctuated or doubled. Jackson didn’t care. He was with his whiskey.

  
When he arrived, the alley was quiet. The houses and the brothel lay in darkness. Only one window was lighted, the window of Susan’s room. That wasn’t unusual. She did the billing of the day. Only afterwards, the day will be over.

  
“Shush!” Jackson mumbled to himself. “Wife is counting money.”

  
He swayed to the front door, managed to find his key and tried to open the door. Not so easy, as it turned out.

  
“Somebody must hold the damned house that I can hit the keyhole” Jackson yelled out loud, but exhorted himself immediately “Shush! Quiet! Goldilocks will be not amused if she caught you in this condition, ol’ Jackson. ”

  
He didn’t finish the last word, as a window opened. Susan looked out. She saw the drunkard on the street and shook her head.

  
“Darlin’” Jackson shouted loudly up to her “Let me be your Valentin! Let me be your wrapping!”

  
“I prefer a coat!” Susan replied sharply, closed the window as well as the curtains behind, and extinguished the light.

  
The lonesome Captain Jackson on the empty street below staggered, fell and started to vomit like there's no tomorrow. His brain wasn’t really clear when it stopped and he thought “Why she wants to have a goat?”

  
He got up.

  
“Your wish is my command, Madame! You want a goat, you should have one.”

  
***

  
Jackson walked unflinchingly though the Whitechapel gutter until he arrived the ‘COATS from GOATS‘ fashion store.

  
‘If I would be a lousy goat skin man, where would I store my raw material’ Jackson considered.

  
Answer: In the backyard of the house, of cause.

  
It needed a while, but the Captain found it at last and must determine that it was fenced with a solid high timber fence.

  
The fence wasn’t a problem for Jackson. He overcame it easily and sat proudly on it while he was thinking about a plan to free the single goat that was standing there peacefully.

  
Blame the befuddling effect of alcohol for the cunning plan Captain Jackson came up with and that he started to execute without delay.

  
He climbed down the fence, approached the goat, grabbed it quickly on his neck and winded his scarf around its mouth. Then he used his jacket and pants to shackle the confused and defending animal.

  
Jackson left his living package for a moment and went on with the removal of a wooden pale what he afterwards leant against the fence and the water butt. Then he took the heavily struggling, unwieldy animal- clothes-bundle in his arms, climbed on the water butt, minced over the pale and finally jumped off the fence.

  
The bundle bust when Jackson hit the ground. The goat started to bleat horrifyingly and ran away, Jackson after it.

  
The hunt led through the whole quarter and ended at the docks where the goat couldn’t go further. Maybe, it was a suicidal example of its species, indeed, the goat bounded into the Thames.

  
Captain Jackson had no other chance than to follow and rescue the animal. In that respect, it was a lucky twist of fate that he didn’t wear his pants anymore.

  
The soggy Jackson with the wet and scared goat on his shoulders, two stubborn bucks in the sleeping streets of London’s East End, made their way home.

  
***

  
Back in Tenter Street, the sun rose and Jackson was sober. He sat on the stairs in front of the brothel entrance stroking the goat. Only now, the Captain realised that it was goddamned cold outside and he was freezing. No wonder, it was February! He must smirk about the absurd situation.

  
“How should I call you” Jackson asked the goat. It bleated. “What do you think about Fred?”

  
“Perfect” a voice said from behind. “The resemblance to our beloved hacker is undeniable.”

  
Jackson turned around and saw Susan grinning at him. She wore one of her light silk night dresses under the Chinese dressing gown. The blonde locks gleamed in the early morning sun.

  
“I bring you a goat” Jackson said.

  
“I didn’t know that I’ve asked for one.”

  
Jackson acted offended. “Do you know what I’ve been through to organise this … Fred … for you?”

  
Susan locked at him with wide eyes.

  
“Yes, darlin’, I preserved Fred from his certain death” the Captain declared dramatically “only for you!”

  
Fred, the goat, bleated.

  
Susan kissed Jacksons cheek and said “Well done, my hero.

  
I think we should go in. It’s cold.”

  
“A fucking freezing cold!”

  
Susan stood up. “We must find a place for Fred.”

  
“What’s with me?”

  
“Go in my bedroom, get rid of this wet stuff, make yourself comfortable in my bed and wait for me. “

  
Jackson’s mouth formed a big smile. Susan nodded.

  
“Yes, Matthew, I will be your wrapping.”

 

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THE END  
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**Thank you for reading. If you have any suggestions to make the story better, please let me know.**


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